A Man of Honor
by MyImmortal329
Summary: Sequel to A Cry in the Thunder. A bit of time has passed, and when Daryl isn't out looking for Merle, he's home with Carol, building a life. What neither of them know is that just around the corner lurks a complication that could threaten to destroy the life they've built in the crumbling ashes of the old world.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing from The Walking Dead.

A Man of Honor

Chapter 1

"Mama! He did it!" Sophia shrieked, hopping up and down on the couch as Eli blinked in surprise up at the ceiling and grinned when he saw his mama's smiling face.

"Sophia, be careful. Sit down on your bottom," Carol urged before picking up her infant son and holding him close. "You _did_ it, Lijah! You rolled over. You're such a big boy!" At three months, Elijah was a chubby, happy baby despite hating tummy time for everything that it was. His face would redden, and a heartbreaking cry would sound from his tiny lungs every single time. Perhaps, Carol thought, that was what motivated the baby to use the upper body strength he'd slowly been mastering over the last few days to roll onto his back, surprising not only his mother and sister but himself.

"Mama, he rolled over! Does this mean he's big enough to play with me yet?"

"I'm afraid not, sweetheart?" Carol chuckled. A loud thud outside startled Sophia, and she rushed to hoist herself over the back of the couch.

"Is that Daryl? Is he home?!" Sophia peered eagerly out the window as Brody whimpered. The dog's ears had perked up at the mention of Daryl's name, and now he was sniffing at the front door. Carol stood with the baby and hurried to peek out the door, frowning at the sight before her.

"No, sweetie. Another chunk of ice fell off the roof. That's all."

"Oh," Sophia sighed. "Mama, I miss him."

"I do, too, sweetie. But I'm sure he'll be home real soon, ok?" Sophia frowned, and Carol gently rubbed her back. "You know what? It's getting late. Why don't you go upstairs and put on your pajamas?"

"Aw, do I have to?"

"Uh-huh. I want you to brush your teeth for two minutes, and then I want you to work on your reading. I already picked out a book for you."

"But, Mama," Sophia whined.

"No buts."

"Why do I gotta learn to read anyway? I don't have to go to school anymore."

"No, you don't, but that doesn't mean that you don't need to learn. That's part of growing up. Learning is very important. You'll thank me when you're older." Sophia pouted, and Carol smoothed back the girl's hair.

"Go on. I'm going to give your brother a bath, and then I'll be in so you can read me your bedtime story."

"Promise you'll help me with the hard words?"

"I promise," Carol chuckled, bending down to kiss her daughter's forehead. "Go on." Sophia sighed and hurried up the stairs, while Carol took one last peek outside before she turned down the lanterns and carried the baby upstairs to give him a bath.

...

Elijah had started sleeping through the night about a month ago, but Carol often woke in the night anyway to check on him and on Sophia. But many nights, she just lay awake wondering if Daryl was ok, if he was warm, if he was safe. He'd been gone for two weeks, and it felt like much longer.

Things around the farm were quiet. She kept the children inside, made sure Sophia didn't get too loud, though sometimes Elijah would cry so loud Carol was certain she'd have a dozen walkers banging at her door. But the fences were holding, and she only had to go out every few days to put down the walkers that seemed to gather there, as if they somehow knew. It was impossible, she knew, but it was still odd how they would just seem to gather at the gate.

She wasn't sure she could ever get used to them or their dead eyes, those raspy moans that escaped their throats like gravel tumbling along the street. It was unsettling to say the least.

So now, as she turned the oil lamp low next to the bed and squeezed some lotion into the palm of her hand, she tried to think about everything but what could happen or what could have happened already without her knowing. She hated to even attempt to think of the fact that he might never come back. But he'd promised. He'd kissed her, and he'd promised to come home, and she only hoped he'd found what he was looking for.

Well, so much for that.

She flopped back against the mattress, letting out a soft groan as her achy muscles welcomed the period of rest, and she closed her eyes, listening to the sound of the wind beating against the side of the house. It had been one hell of a winter, and each time Daryl went out looking for Merle, he'd come back empty handed. He'd taken a different route, this time heading into the heart of Atlanta, and he was due back any day. It was the waiting that was the worst. At least when she _did_ sleep, she could forget about her worries for a little while and let the time pass freely.

She turned onto her side, suddenly very wide awake. Despite trying to tire herself out with a good book, she'd been unable to relax enough to let herself slip off to sleep. She knew why. She knew that when Daryl got home, things were going to change. And it wasn't a bad thing. It was good. Very good. But what was between them was still very new, and they'd given each other time. They'd shared a bed, they'd kissed, they'd touched, they'd been patient with one another, getting to know the little intimacies without getting too intimate.

She knew she could trust him, but it was a scary thing. She hadn't been with anyone since Ed, and that had always been a humiliating experience that either left her feeling dirty or empty. But she had fallen out of love with a long time ago, and sex had become almost mechanical to her. Another duty to perform. Another piece of her marriage she just had to fake her way through. Going through the motions.

She didn't want it to feel like that with Daryl. She wanted to feel comfortable and beautiful and desired. She wanted him to feel good, too, of course, and she certainly didn't want to have any doubts running through her head when it happened.

She'd been expecting it, honestly, and about a month after Merle had taken off, it had almost happened. They'd come so close, and he'd had her shirt off and his hand unclasping her bra, and she'd frozen for half a second, long enough that he knew he needed to stop, that she wasn't ready, and she'd felt horrified, knowing that freezing up with Ed had never been an option.

But he'd kissed her and promised her it would happen when it was right for both of them. And on this night, as she lay alone in bed thinking about everything that could possibly go wrong and how much she missed him, she was wishing he was home, wishing he was there to take her mind off of the harsh world outside.

A loud crack outside startled her from her endless thoughts, and she scrambled out of bed and hurried to the window. She peeked through the curtains to see where the large branch that had almost been eye-level with the window was now gone and had fallen to the ground, lying on top of the frozen snow.

The temperature was dropping, and she shivered at the thought of the generator running out of fuel tonight. She tried not to use much energy during the day, saving it all for heating the house at night. Still, she knew that generator would be empty within a day or so.

She pulled back and left the room to check on Sophia. Brody was curled up on the foot of her bed, and he barely even lifted his head to gaze at Carol when she draped an extra blanket over the little girl.

"You keep her safe, Brody," Carol whispered, scratching the dog behind the ears. He whined and nuzzled her hand with his cold, wet nose.

When she slipped back out into the hall, she felt a chill as a cool draft tickled the back of her neck. She gasped softly the second she heard the floorboards creak. It was then that she noticed the shadow ghosting across the floor of her bedroom, followed by the tinkling sound of Elijah's mobile.

Her breath caught into her throat, and she was rushing across the hall, slipping into the room just in time to see Daryl Dixon straighten from over the crib and turn to see her.

"Daryl!" she exclaimed in a hushed whisper, as Daryl took a step away from the crib. She rushed to him then, wrapping her arms around his neck, and he moaned softly when her mouth was on his, warming his cold, weary body with her own heat.

"Hey," he breathed, nuzzling his face against her neck, breathing in her scent as she ran her fingers over his neck and through his hair, happy to have him back home.

"Any luck?" she asked, as he pulled back, moving his hands down to her waist. She shivered under the look he gave her, and her breathing quickened as he rubbed gentle circles over the flesh of her hips just above the band of her pajama pants. "Daryl?"

"Missed you," he said quietly, tilting her chin up so he could kiss her again.

"I missed you, too." She moaned softly the moment his hands gripped the back of her night shirt, and he was lifting it up, sliding his hand up and down her bare back, making her knees shake a little. "Daryl…"

"Hate bein' gone so long," he murmured. "Couldn't stop thinkin' about you."

"Me too," she admitted. "But I understand. He's your brother."

"Wanted to get back home to you," he broke in between kisses. She sighed then, melting into his touch, giving herself over to the way his skin warmed under her touch, the way his kisses took her breath away. He was walking her backward then, toward the bed, and she gasped softly, narrowly avoiding tripping over one of her boots. Daryl held tight to her, keeping her upright as they moved backward. Her hands tugged at his coat, and he shrugged it off as he kicked his heavy boots off and lifted her up into his arms.

She giggled then, wondering what it might be like to watch this from afar, to see Daryl Dixon sweep a woman off of her feet. But she wound her arms around his neck and kissed him deeper, pouting just a little when he put her down on the bed, but her smile re-emerged when he crawled over her, kissing her slowly, hungrily, moving his hand up under her nightshirt, ghosting over her belly as the muscles jumped under his fingertips.

"You ok?" he asked, and she nodded, nuzzling against his neck as his hand moved higher. She could feel her trembling under him, and he stopped. "We can stop."

"I don't want to," she whispered. "I'm…I'm ok." She smiled then, running her hand up his chest and his neck and up to cup his cheek. "I love you." It was the first time she'd really said it, and maybe it was the old cliché that absence made the heart grow fonder, but she'd known it for a long time, felt it for even longer.

And just as Daryl opened his mouth to say something in return, the baby began to cry, and they both looked at one another and began to laugh. Carol pulled him down onto her, and he chuckled against her chest, placing a kiss against her throat.

"I love you too," he murmured, giving her a soft kiss before he rolled off the bed.

"I'll get him," Carol offered. "Go on. Go get cleaned up."

"You sayin' I stink?"

"No," she laughed. "But I might need a few minutes to calm him down." She kissed him again. "Don't worry. I'll be waiting when you're done."

"You better be," he chuckled, getting a laugh out of her before she craned up to kiss him again. Then the baby's cries grew louder, and she collapsed against the mattress. "You'd better go now, or we'll be up all night." She kissed his nose, and he rolled off of her. He went to the crib and brought the baby to her, placing him in her arms.

"He's gettin' big."

"He rolled over for the first time today?"

"No kiddin'?"

"He'll be running around chasing after Brody before we know it." She sighed and patted the baby's back. She bit her lip and looked up at Daryl who was standing at the foot of the bed. "I'm glad you're home."

"Me too," he replied. "Been too long." With that, he turned and headed off to the bathroom, while Carol tried to calm her crying son.

...

Carol jolted at the feeling of his fingers brushing over her arm. Her eyes flew open, and she gasped at the sight of him smirking at her as he lifted the baby off of her chest.

"I fell asleep," she groaned.

"You fell asleep," he confirmed, holding Elijah close as he slowly stepped over to the crib and put him down. He pulled a blanket over the little one and moved across the room wearing nothing but a towel, and Carol suddenly wasn't feeling very tired anymore.

"How long was I out?"

"Probably not long. Water was cold."

"I'm sorry," she pouted, as he grabbed his pack and got into bed.

"What's this?" she asked, as he rifled through it. He paused then, and she could see the flush in his cheeks.

"Uh…I wasn't expectin'. Just hopin'." He pulled out a box and tossed his pack onto the floor.

"Oh," Carol murmured, staring down at the box of condoms in his hand. He put it down on the nightstand and turned to her. That knocked a little laugh out of her. "I see." What the hell else was there to say? "That's very…responsible of you." Daryl flashed her a questioning look. "I'm teasing. Thank you for bringing them." She leaned in then, placing her hand against his shoulder, pressing a kiss against his jaw as her hand moved down to his chest and then lower, resting on his abdomen just above where the towel was knotted.

"You sure you're ready?" The flush in her cheeks spread down her neck, and he followed the trail of skin that dipped into her button down sleep shirt, before his gaze flickered back to hers.

"Kiss me," she whispered, tugging on his arm, pulling him onto her, lying back against the mattress as his hand moved up her shirt again, stroking the soft skin of her belly. She closed her eyes when his fingers played with the string on her pants, and he paused.

"Tell me to stop, and I'll stop."

"I don't want to," she breathed. "I'm just nervous." Her fingers trembled as she ran them over the lines of scars on his back. "It's been a while."

"Been a real long while for me," Daryl admitted. "Don't wanna hurt you."

"You couldn't. I know you. I trust you, Daryl." He leaned in then, his strong arms surrounding her as he took his time kissing her, holding her, focusing on _her_ and not the own impossible ache he felt, the yearning and desire for her that he hadn't been able to keep out of his head since the first time they'd kissed.

It was never easy, a first time, and it was never perfect, but it was about as close to perfect as Daryl could think, the way they moved together so easily, fit together so seamlessly, the way one body seemed to answer to the other, the way she whispered in his ear, urging him when she needed more, begging him for release.

Her hands slicked in sweat against his back, memorizing the lines of his scars as if willing the bad memories out in place of good. His lips were soft against her neck and her shoulders, kissing her in ways she'd never been kissed before, in ways so tender and loving. She hadn't felt love like this before.

Exposing herself to someone, opening herself up, making herself vulnerable. These were things she'd been frightened to death of, but knowing he felt the same way and had his own insecurities made it feel real, made it feel powerful. And the way his body fit with hers, the way she closed her eyes and relished the feel of him sinking into her, of being a part of her, of connecting in the most primal of ways was overpowering. It took her under, took her breath from her lungs, took the beat of her heart and synced it in time with his. They were one.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

She'd insisted on doing the dirty work. So now, he was perched cautiously on the porch steps, watching as Carol stood about two yards away firing shot after shot, equipped with the silencer Daryl had found on one of his last runs. She easily felled the gathering of four walkers using only six bullets.

"See?" she asked, turning to him with a barely contained smile. "No big deal."

Daryl hated leaving. He absolutely hated it. But every time, Carol sent him on his way with a kiss and a reminder that she had taken care of herself and Sophia while heavily pregnant after Ed died, and she was an even better shot now with a little help from him. She would even try to pander to that piece of him that held pride in how she had excelled in shooting thanks to his skilled instructions, and how she was even picking up a little bit on the crossbow, as awkward and large as it looked in her hands.

"No big deal," he chuckled, tossing the piece of straw he'd been chewing on into the heavy snow.

"What next? Oh, yeah! The generator," Carol remembered. "We're getting low."

"I got a couple full cans in the van. I'll get it." Daryl trudged off to the van, while Carol made her way around back to the generator. She flinched at the smell of gasoline, but it wasn't just that. It smelled…hot. And it wasn't long before she knew why. As she stepped up behind it, she saw smoke coming up from under it, and she quickly flipped the lever, turning it off as she waved her hand to clear the smoke.

"Daryl?" He came around the house with a gas can in each hand, and he dropped them at her feet.

"What happened?"

"I don't know. It was hot. Smoking," she coughed, touching the surface of the generator to find it warm despite the frigid temperatures.

"Shit," he muttered. "Gonna have to take a look at it."

"Well, come inside first. Get warmed up by the fire. It's too cold to be out here for long." Daryl looked up at the clear sky, and he looked anxious. "What's wrong?"

"Got a feelin' more snow's comin'. Probably best get this fixed now." Carol stepped toward him, curling her fingers around his.

"I'll get a fire going inside. Promise you won't stay out too long?"

"Promise." He leaned down to kiss her softly, and she smiled, laughing when the overgrown stubble on his chin scratched her chin. Then she headed back around the house, fumbling with the keys in her pocket. She quickly unlocked the two deadbolts and the knob lock, locking herself back up as she did every night.

The house was pretty secure. The front and back door were locked up like Fort Knox at all time, while the windows were nailed shut, and the downstairs windows were kept shuttered with the curtains drawn after everyone settled in for the night. A shotgun was perched atop the tall wardrobe in the bedroom, and even with all of those precautions, Carol knew Daryl hated leaving. But somebody had to go get the supplies, and she had offered several times. The fact remained that Merle was still out there somewhere, and Daryl wanted to be the one to find him. He was torn between his love for his brother and his desire to stay home with his family, though Carol always insisted he go, because if he didn't, he'd regret not trying.

"Mama, Eli's crying," Sophia announced, the moment Carol stepped into the house. Carol winced at the piercing cries.

"Yes, I can hear that," she replied, moving into the living room to pick Elijah up out of the bassinet. "Are you hungry, Soph?"

"No, I'm ok," she replied, wiping a smear of chocolate off of her face.

"Sophia, where did you find chocolate?" Carol asked sternly.

"Nowhere, Mama," Sophia said innocently, holding her hands behind her back.

"Show me your hands."

"But, why?"

"Because I said so," Carol replied. "Sophia?" Sophia sighed and revealed the small box of cookies in her hands. "Where did you find that?"

"In Daryl's bag," she announced.

"Why were you going through Daryl's things?"

"I wanted to see if he brought me anything? He promised me cookies, Mama. He did!"

"Well, let's just hope so, or he's going to be pretty upset you ate all of his cookies." Sophia ducked her head then, and Carol looked at the door as the knob jostled. Daryl let him inside, and he saw Carol standing there holding the crying baby, while Sophia looked sheepishly up at him. When he saw the box of cookies, he reached down at picked Sophia up.

"You found your cookies, huh?"

"Oh God," Carol groaned. "Don't encourage her."

"What? I promised her cookies," Daryl replied with a shrug, as Carol rolled her eyes.

"See, Mama?" Sophia asked, hugging Daryl around the neck. "I missed you!"

"Missed you, too, Soph," Daryl replied, squeezing her in a bear hug before he put her down. At Carol's annoyed expression, he cleared his throat. "Better save some of them for after lunch, though."

"Ok," Sophia replied with a grin, hurrying off into the back of the house, while Elijah continued crying.

"He ok?" Daryl asked.

"Oh, maybe he wants a cookie, too," Carol replied with an eye roll. She patted his back, bouncing him gently in her arms. Then she frowned, placing her hand against Elijah's forehead. "Daryl? Does he feel a little warm to you?" Daryl placed his hand against the baby's forehead, brows furrowing in worry.

"Yeah, he's a little warm." Carol worried her lower lip between her teeth, and she kissed the top of the baby's forehead. "Ok. I've got something for him. Can you…can you hold him?" Her hands trembled a little, and she handed the baby over to him.

"Hey. Hey, he's gonna be ok." Carol avoided his gaze and instead headed up the stairs to the bathroom, pulling out a box infant acetaminophen. She checked the box, sighing with relief when she saw the expiration date wasn't for at least another six months.

Eli wasn't crying anymore when she came back downstairs, and Carol quickly tore the bottle from the package, removing the dropper and sucking up the allotted dose. Eli fussed again when Carol gave him the medicine, but he swallowed it down, and Daryl held him close, rocking him gently. He watched as Carol gently caressed the back of Eli's head, staring down at him with worry.

"Hey, he's gonna be ok," he repeated. "You ok?" She simply nodded and turned away, covering her mouth with her hand, and Daryl reached out, gently squeezing her shoulder. "Kids get fevers. I remember when Anna…"

"It's not the fever I'm worried about, Daryl," Carol got out, shoulders shaking with worry. "There aren't any vaccines anymore. There are thousand things that could happen, and my kid isn't going to be immune, because there aren't any cures anymore."

"He's gonna be ok," Daryl urged her. "You can't worry 'bout things like that."

"I should have worried," she said with a shake of her head. "What if he gets really sick?"

"Then we'll worry 'bout that when the time comes." Carol didn't look too convinced, but she knew as well as he did that there was no room for wondering about the what ifs in this world. What had to come first was the immediate. The now. They couldn't sit around worry about what might happen, because if they did, they'd just make themselves crazy.

Daryl gently put the baby back down in the bassinet, and while he fussed for a moment, he quickly found his fingers and suckled at them to soothe himself back to sleep. Daryl moved back to Carol, pulling his arms around her from behind, burying his face against the back of her neck.

"I ain't goin' back out for a while," he decided.

"Daryl, we talked about this." She meant to sound stern, but it was pretty difficult when the last thing she wanted was for him to leave again.

"I know we talked about it, but I'm tellin' ya, I ain't goin' back out. Somethin' don't feel right. Put down three of those walkers outside the gate last night, and there were four more this mornin'. Don't know where they're comin' from, why they're bein' drawn here, but there was a whole herd just fifteen miles back. Hundreds of 'em. I was gone too long last time. Ain't right, leavin' you here."

"The house is fortified. Nothing's getting in here without a hell of a lot of effort. I haven't seen a car, heard a gunshot, seen lights off in the hills. Nothing, Daryl. It's quiet." She turned and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Maybe we should both stop worrying so much." She kissed him before burying her face against his neck, inhaling the scent of him, relishing in the feel of being in his arms, something she knew she would never be able to get enough of. But, she also knew there was work to be done, and distractions weren't going to heat the house or put food on the table.

She gently pushed back on his shoulders then before giving him a tender kiss.

"Are you warmed up enough yet?"

"Yeah, I think so," he chuckled. "Guess I better get to fixin' the generator. Got some stuff in the back of the truck I didn't bring in last night. Few boxes of ammo, a couple more guns. Some canned goods and clothes."

"I'll bring those in. You just worry about the generator. Be careful though. That thing looked like it was ready to catch fire."

"Yeah, I got it," he promised. "Be done in a bit." He headed off, and Carol checked on Elijah one more time, tucking his blanket around him.

"You ok, buddy?" The baby grunted in his sleep, and she gently patted his tummy. "I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. You hear me?" She bent down to kiss his forehead.

She started for the door again, pocketing her keys.

"Sophia?"

"Huh?" she asked, walking out of the kitchen with another cookie in her hand.

"Sophia Peletier, you cookie monster."

"Sorry, Mama," she giggled sheepishly.

"I'm going back outside to bring in some supplies. You watch over your brother for me, ok? Come get me if he cries."

"I will!" Sophia said with an excited nod. If there was one thing that Sophia loved more than cookies or playing with her toys, it was being left to watch over her baby brother. She couldn't really pick him up or play with him, but she could keep an eye on him, and when her mama asked her to do that, she did it without complaint, because she was his big sister, and she had to protect him.

"Thank you, baby," Carol smiled. "You play quiet and stay in here, and I'll be in and out. Just make sure Eli stays covered up and warm, ok?" Sophia nodded and hopped up onto the couch to sit protectively next to the bassinet. "You're a good big sister."

"Can I have a baby sister?" Sophia asked innocently. Carol paused and laughed.

"Well, you never know, but I think the both of you are more than enough."

"Well, if you ever change your mind, a little sister would be really fun."

"I'll…keep that in mind," Carol chuckled, shaking her head at her daughters' out-of-the-blue question. She headed out into the snow to unload the things from Daryl's truck, bringing in a box at a time until everything was piled on the kitchen table.

When she went out to check for anything left behind, she could hear footsteps crunching on the snow behind her. Turning sharply, she saw Daryl coming up around the house with an empty gas can.

"Got it workin', but it's on its last leg," he muttered. "Might have to think about leavin' when the snow clears up." At Carol's crestfallen look, he unloaded the gas can into the back of the truck. "M'sorry."

"It's fine," she said with a shake of her head. "I should be used to moving."

"Well, we ain't gotta go just yet. I can check out the insulation in the house, see if I can do somethin' to make it warmer, keep the drafts out. We can put blankets up over the windows. Saw some plastic out in the barn. We could use that over the windows to catch the drafts. Just with havin' two little ones…"

"We aren't guaranteed to find another place like this though. The next place could be worse."

"Yeah," Daryl replied with a shake of his head. "I'll keep workin' at it. See if I can't scavenge some spare parts from another generator somewhere. It'll hold up for another week or two, at least. I'd rather try and fix it than go out there with Soph and Squirt. It's bad enough out there alone, but havin' a baby out there cryin' for them things to hear? I'll do what I can to try and save the generator."

Carol took a shaky breath and gave his hand a squeeze.

"Thank you," she said softly, before they turned to head back into the house. But as they turned, something caught Carol's attention in the corner of her eye, and she turned her head, gasping, gripping Daryl's hand. "Daryl. Look." He turned his attention in the direction she was staring, and he reached for the gun at his hip.

"You got yer gun?"

"Yeah."

"Get it. Finger on the trigger." Carol nodded, quickly reaching for her gun as Daryl took his in hand and aimed it, as the car tearing down the slick country road swerved and slid, tossing up clods of snow in its wake.

"Do you think that's Merle?" Carol asked after a moment.

"No. Ain't him. Merle's South. This guy's comin' from the North. Be ready."

"I'm ready," she promised, pulling back the hammer and putting her finger on the trigger, ready and willing to do whatever she had to to protect her family. She silently whispered a prayer that this guy would just keep moving, but instead, the car spun, and it crunched violently into a cement post at the corner of the property. Steam hissed up into the cold winter air, and after a few silent moments, the driver's door swung open.

"Stay here. I'll check it out," Daryl murmured, taking off toward the car as Carol swallowed back the fear that clawed in her throat as her hand shook. She lowered her gun enough that should it go off simply from the vibration of her fingertips, it wouldn't harm anyone, and she kept her eyes squarely on Daryl as he approached the car, fear bubbling up in her veins as she willed away the panic that was beginning to set in.

Daryl paused at the door then, lowering his gun, and that was when Carol started running, feet tearing up the snow in her path as she rushed to get to his side.

"Daryl?!"

"It's ok," he called. "It's ok." Carol went out through the gate, moving around to come up behind Daryl as he peered into the car. "It's just a kid." She peered in to see a young boy, no more than eight or nine, thin and pale, sitting in the driver's seat, blood trickling from his nose and his forehead.

"Hey," Carol said softly, reaching down to touch the boy's cold cheek. "It's ok. You're ok."

"Help," he cried softly, before he collapsed against the seat, eyes rolling back, as the steam continued to billow up from under the hood of the car and up into the cloudy skies above.


End file.
